Divided

by Rae Brooks

  That was probably all a charade, Tareth thought, Calis must have loved Lady Avyon’s company—but he didn’t want father to know that he did. Tareth didn’t know why his brother bothered trying to appease their father, when it appeared that Calis could do no wrong. Oh, what Tareth wouldn’t give to exploit his brother in a way that their father could not ignore.

  Spending a few more precious moments in the wash, Tareth contemplated what he intended to do first on this very important occasion. He still hadn’t decided as he stepped out to dry himself, and then dressed in the fine black, golden, and red clothing that the servant had retrieved for him. He found the bath servant again easily. “Send a servant to my room, at once,” he said harshly. “And get my advisor.”

  Without waiting for her bow, which he knew that she gave, he headed back to his room. He felt much more gratified in the clothing that he wore now, with hair properly washed and combed. He was not finished getting ready, but he would be soon, and there was something empowering about looking like a noble.

  The servant, a tall male with black hair, entered a few moments later. “Braid my hair,” he instructed severely. The man was often sent into Tareth’s room to braid his hair, so he was already preparing by the time Tareth had finished the demand. Tareth was glad that his father’s servants were smart enough to repeat patterns. Most of them were brought up as servants, and as such, were much more equipped to handle his needs than the servants Tareth… acquired from Dark District.

  Nevertheless, there was something much more exciting about those servants who were unwilling. How he enjoyed breaking down their free will and making them realize just how pathetic they were. Sure, he may be cruel, but he could not help what he enjoyed. Why should he restrain himself from things that pleasured him when he was in a position to take precisely what he wanted?

  A flash of anger shot through him at the thought of his servants. He had always taken pride in those that he’d stolen from Dark District—and only one of them had ever disappeared back into it. A blond woman by the name of Leliana. That had been one of the first works of the bloody Phantom Blade. The one action that Tareth would enjoy taking revenge for most thoroughly. Bringing whoever that masked vigilante was into the castle, and forcing him into servitude, would have been the most glorious of triumphs. But, as of yet, and thanks to his impertinent brother, he had been unable to acquire that.

  Irrelevant for now, he assured himself. He would get his hands on the Phantom Blade one sun, and then he would enjoy every superb drop of pain that he caused the boy before he watched him hang. Or perhaps, he wouldn’t hang him at all…

  A moment later, as the servant diligently braided Tareth’s lengthening hair, his advisor entered. The man was very round, with red hair and a face to match. His cheeks were always flushed red, and his eyes were a dull green. “Master, you called for me,” the man said respectfully.

  Of course, Tareth’s advisor no more respected him than he respected the rug on which he walked. No advisors truly cared for their masters—that was well known. Advisors only took positions such as these to gain position, and Tareth had been taught that from an early age. But, his advisor, Tarmos was his name, should feel honored that he was given the privilege of advising a prince. Naturally, he didn’t.

  Still, Tarmos was better than Lee Keiichi. Calis’s advisor was certainly the most insolent person in Elyst. He didn’t seem at all interested in Tareth, nor did he seem to respect Calis. Calis and Lee fraternized as though they were friends, and though Tareth knew Lavus saw—and didn’t approve—Lavus said nothing, allowing Calis to do precisely as he pleased. Why had his brother chosen such an advisor? Tareth would never know. “I did,” Tareth said dryly, “I wanted to let you know that I will be down in my other quarters all sun. Tell my mother, and anyone else who might seek me out, that I am there and am not to be disturbed, do we understand one another?”

  He made sure that his voice held all the superiority that it should over one as lowly as his advisor. “Yes, you highness, and what if your father calls?” the man asked thoughtfully. It was, after all, an advisor’s duty to ensure that his master was prepared for all situations. The odds that Lavus would need anything from his lowly second son were small indeed, however. “Tell him that I have occupied myself with the servants, and come get me at once.”

  The man nodded his head quietly. The braiding continued, and the servant was so accustomed that it did not take him nearly the time it would have taken another. Tareth dismissed the man shortly and glanced at his advisor. “Is there anything else?”

  “Ah, yes, your highness—your brother wishes to speak with you.” What an odd turn of events, Tareth thought wildly. Why would Calis wish to speak with him? Calis had been doing a rather fine job of extending the distance between both of them as of late.

  Tareth didn’t see any reason to spurn his brother, though, and that would only give Calis more leverage with their father. No, he would go see his brother for whatever reason the fool wanted. “Where will I find him, then?”

  “He is in the sitting room, but he assures you that any correspondence will be brief.”

  Tareth nodded to his advisor and dismissed the man. He headed towards the sitting room at once and couldn’t help the slight bit of dread that entered his stomach. Calis wasn’t the sort to call meetings in the sitting room.

  When he entered, though, his brother leaned on one of the far walls. Well, Tareth thought, at least he is still himself enough not to be sitting in the sitting room—that would be far too practical for my elder brother.

  “Brother,” Calis said smoothly. His voice was always carefully manicured, as though he had spent suns preparing and perfecting the sound of it. How Calis did it, Tareth would never know—or perhaps one sun he would.

  Nervousness had not completely evaporated as Tareth stared at his blond brother. Calis was so much taller than him that even standing near his brother bothered him. “What is it, Calis?” Tareth asked, trying to hide his anxiousness.

  Rather than immediately informing Tareth, Calis smiled that perfected smile of his. “What a foolish question to ask me, Tareth,” Calis said. Was Tareth being mocked? No, he had not wanted to do anything of this sort on this sun.

  “Why?” he asked irately.

  “This is the sun that bore you, my brother. Why else would I have called you to a meeting?” All other thoughts dissipated into the air as Tareth realized that his brother had, in fact, remembered his sun of birth. “I thought I ought to give you your gift before I went off to handle my own affairs.”

  Tareth stood, dumbfounded, as he looked at his older brother. There was something different about Calis, Tareth noted. It was not altogether settling either. The smile on his brother’s face was not, in fact, the perfect smile that he was used to seeing. No, there was a difference in the smile, and the way Calis Tsrali moved his body. A sprightliness than Tareth had not seen imbue his brother for a very long time. Rather than pausing to wait for Tareth’s response, Calis extended his hand and opened it to reveal a golden amulet.

  The amulet was made of solid gold and sparkled in the light that was let in by the sun from the windows in this room. This was, after all, one of the few rooms in the castle that was permitted to have windows—mostly because Lavus never used it. In the center of the amulet, which consisted of two crossed swords within a golden ring—was a dark ruby. The gift was unexpected, at best. “This is lovely, brother,” Tareth said warily.

  Calis just offered him a smile and placed the amulet in his hands. “I’m glad you approve,” he said thoughtfully. “I will let you go about your business for the sun, then. I’m sure you have plenty planned.”

  Following Calis out of the room, Tareth eased the amulet around his neck. The way the necklace glittered in the few lights that caught it was breathtaking. Perhaps his brother did not hate him as much as Tareth had thought, or perhaps Calis didn’t want Tareth to think that he hated him. Either way, the amulet was quite the gift. Though, the unsettling
thought remained within Tareth’s mind as his brother offered him a final farewell.

  As Calis walked down the hall, he paused to greet both of the servants that passed with an air of familiarity. Calis had never held the same disregard for the servants that Tareth and Lavus had, but he had certainly never been so friendly with them. No, something had changed, Tareth realized. The way Calis’s body moved—he was not just spritely, he was happy. Tareth had always taken solace that his older brother seemed to have his own set of problems, that the two of them were perpetually unhappy in this castle together. But now, Calis seemed to have shaken that. His happiness was suffocating.

  What had happened that would change Calis’s demeanor so profoundly? This would have been more acceptable had Calis returned from Dokak with such an attitude, but he had not. Whatever had changed Calis had happened recently, and Tareth intended to find out what it was. Perhaps Calis thought he would be king soon, or perhaps this was the prince’s real reaction to being engaged to the fairest woman in all of Elyst.

  Or perhaps there was something else, Tareth thought—something that was worth investigating. But on another sun, he promised himself. On another sun he would find a way to ruin his brother forever and remove that insufferable happiness. But on this sun, Tareth would focus on finding a peculiar happiness of his own.

  He descended into the lower portion of the castle, the one that was not decorated in crimson and held only black stones and flames. As he entered one of the higher parts of the dungeon, he stepped into the small room that he had claimed for his own. There were different sorts of beds, whips, and chains, all scattered throughout the place. His own little private chamber where he was able to do precisely as he pleased.

  Whips, specifically designed outfits, chains that decorated the walls, and ropes that could hold a servant in place. Then, there were the cells at the back of the room. They were dark and dank, without the slightest luxury. Inside them were the servants that he had collected from Dark District, Tareth had moved them here after Leliana had been stolen from him. Now they would all be together and locked up more appropriately.

  Tareth’s tastes were varied, and so he made sure to collect an assortment of men and women from Dark District. Some of the men were larger, while some were small, and the women had all sorts of hair colors, though their size varied less. As he scanned his choices, he decided on a short-haired, blond woman. She wore nothing—none of them did, and she offered little resistance, aside from a few whimpers as he led her over to one of the beds.

  He had beds for when he wanted to focus on pleasuring himself, and tables for when he wanted to focus on causing pain to his servants. This sun, he wanted the focus to be solely on him—with the servant as the backdrop. He fastened her ankles to the lower portion of the bed, using a crank to flip her from her front to her back, as he analyzed which side from which he wanted to enter. At last, he settled on her front, for if he was going to use a woman—then he may as well get a fine view of her breasts. This woman didn’t have much in the way of breasts, but there was enough. He chained her wrists to the top of the bed and slowly slid off his clothes.

  He no longer had to gag his servants, as none of them were very new. They were all accustomed to the punishment that screaming brought. No, but Tareth knew the person that he wanted in this room—that he wanted bound and gagged and whimpering helplessly for mercy as Tareth worked his overly graceful body like an instrument.

  “Evil would always exist, but his proof was that the good would shine brighter and longer within the kingdoms.”

  -A Hero’s Peace v.i

  Chapter xxiii

  Aela Lassau

  Traveling on horseback had certainly not been as glorious as Aela had seen it in her mind. Her feet were sore from clinging to the horse for so many suns, and she had never guessed she would miss that wagon so feverishly. They had abandoned it, and most of their belongings—hoping any guards that found it would assume all the people in it were dead. It was a fair guess, considering the carnage that they’d left around the wagon.

  Leif and she had both strapped a single pack onto their backs and they brought only what would fit in those. To make matters worse, the saddles on the horses’ backs were not meant for very much riding, and Aela’s inner thighs were so chapped that she didn’t know if she would make it to Telandus. In fact, Telandus seemed like a faraway dream now, as they rode in complete silence for what felt like an eternity.

  The weather had finally given way to sun, so at least she was no longer being soaked as they rode. The more they traveled, the more thankful she was for the haircut she had given herself. Aela watched Leif quietly as he rode a few paces in front of her. He hadn’t had any trouble at all adjusting to his injury on the horse. “I hope we run into traders this sun,” he said briefly, “from the looks of this plain—I don’t think we’ll be seeing much game for you to shoot.”

  Her bow had been their saving grace for the last few suns, as traders had become scarcer as they had neared Telandus. Leif had told her that this was due to the fact that Telandus was so unkind to most traders, and the ones that did trade for the city were scrutinized for dealing with unknown travelers. What a lovely city, Aela thought.

  The only good that had come of the whole ordeal was her attachment to her new horse. The brown and white splotched creature was very good-natured, considering how little they had been able to stop for water. Aela thought the horse was much better a sport about the situation than she was herself. “I’m sure if we don’t that I’ll make due,” Aela said, with a little forced confidence, “I am very good.”

  “Good, are you?” Leif mumbled dryly, bringing his horse to a stop at the top of one of the hills. Aela pulled on her own horse’s reins so that they could observe the landscape that they would be traveling for the next sun. “If you were really so wonderful at hunting, love, then you would shoot your game through the eye, and not cause such bruising to the skin.”

  Aela narrowed her eyes in irritation. He ought to be grateful that she was giving him any of her food, and yet all he could do was complain. Then again, Leif was right about her aim. She should have been focusing on preserving what she caught. She didn’t allow her mind to think about the name that he’d called her. That was, after all, Leif’s way of speaking—and to let herself get into a tizzy over it would have been imprudent.

  “Well, the bruising wouldn’t matter so much if I didn’t have to share with such an insolent companion.” A wry grin crept across his face at the insult, but he said nothing, instead choosing to focus on finding the best path. “Looks like we’re out of flat land to ride,” he pointed out.

  Aela let her eyes skim the landscape before them. They were, in fact, about to be heading into a vast of hills and valleys. She didn’t like the idea of riding without being able to see very far in front of her, but there was really no choice. “May as well get started, then,” she said.

  When she glanced across to him, there was a flicker of admiration on his face before he looked away. He didn’t comment, and instead dug his heel into his horse and started down the first of many hills. As she rode, Aela occupied herself with more trivial thoughts. She considered how dirty her face must be—and that Veyron himself would probably not have recognized her in this condition.

  Leif wasn’t even recognizable at this point in their journey. Aela’s brow furrowed, though, at the idea of Cathalar men being the ones to find the destroyed wagon. Her father, surely he knew she’d gone with Leif and the others, would think her dead. Though Veyron was not a soft-hearted man, the death of his daughter would be a pain that he would not soon forget. Aela had no way of easing that pain, either. She had to finish the mission before her father could ever see her again.

  Her eyes moved ahead to Leif. She wondered idly what he must be thinking about. Did he miss the men that had died in the attack? Was he able to forget them more easily than she was? Did he wish she wasn’t there? Was he glad she was? For the amount Leif spoke, she was always surpris
ed at how little he said. He never revealed what he was truly thinking except in very rare moments. “What are you thinking, Leif?” she finally asked when the silence felt as though it might destroy her.

  He slowed his horse and allowed her to ride at his side. He offered her a quirked eyebrow for a moment, as though he thought she was unintelligent. “I am thinking about not falling off my horse, princess.” She knew that wasn’t true, though. That may have been true for the first few suns that Leif had ridden with his injury—but no longer.

  She frowned at him. She would never understand why he was determined to keep so many emotions pent up inside of him. Perhaps he knew it made her want to know them that much more. That seemed very much like Leif Firenz. “I don’t understand why you never talk about yourself.”

  “I do talk about myself,” he disagreed. That was all he said, though, which she thought did a fair job of winning the argument for her. “Why do you want to know about me, sir?” He emphasized the ‘sir’ in quite a comical fashion. “I thought you didn’t care for me.”

  “I don’t,” Aela was not about to be drawn into that particular trap. “But haven’t you ever heard the saying keep your friends close, and your enemies closer?” A smile at that triumphant remark found its way onto her lips. Two could play at these silly little word games, she thought.

  Leif rewarded her with one of his more genuine smiles, and she felt a spear of happiness at seeing it. “We should not say much out here, I think. There are too many possibilities. You saw the guards a few suns ago.”

  They had seen another caravan of guards, but because they had been on horseback—avoiding the group had been fairly easy. Aela’s heart had suffered for it, though. She doubted Leif would get much more talkative when they entered Telandus, but she decided that pushing him out here was unwise. “True enough.”